Chapter 2! Please, please, please R & R!
Disclaimer: Now I understand why everyone hates these so much. I am not Tamora Pierce. If I was, Jon would have died in the first paragraph and George would have become King.
Lilliana-Rose: *blushes* Thank you! I don't know why my name wasn't on there, probably a glitch in the system.
The two girls were sitting in front of the Mother Superior (a/n I can't remember her proper title, this will have to do) looking very solemn but laughing away underneath their good-girl masks. The Mother was looking down severely at them, her piercing gaze sliding down her hawkish nose and connecting sharply with the faces of the blushing teenagers. Alanna risked a glance around her at the office she knew only too well: the neutral cream walls, the shrine to the Mother Goddess, and the hard-backed, stiff oak chairs that, with the desk, were the only furniture. There were no personal touches, no hint of personality. Once, when she and Cythera had been left alone in here, Alanna had peeked into the desk drawers-even there there were only files, papers, and bills, nothing to show that the person whose office this was was anything more then an accountant. When the Mother Superior spoke, the voice matched everything else about her: stern, severe and unrelenting.
"I cannot believe this. I simply cannot believe that the week before you leave for Corus, you would disgrace the entire convent in this unladylike fashion. It is disgraceful. I would have thought that after seven years with us you persist in these despicable, shameful ways. Alanna," and now the full fury of her intense glare was turned on the redhead, "Don't you understand you are going to be married to one of the most important young warriors at court? Don't you realise that the entire reputation of the convent rests upon your shoulders? Does it mean nothing to you that..."
And so it went on, and on, and on. Alanna drifted off into one of her stored-up daydreams of being a warrior, Cythera into one of hers about romance and court. They didn't bother paying attention during these all-too- frequent sessions: the Mother Superior was the kind of person who vocally italicised every other word, even the unimportant ones. Besides, they had heard this speech, or its identical twins, every week since their arrival.
"...and besides, the court will be expecting you to know... Alanna, Cythera, are you even listening to me?" This last was delivered in exactly the same tones as the rest, and neither one of the girls responded. Looking primed for impending explosion, the Mother Superior snapped.
"That is enough!"
The two heads, one dark, one coppery, jerked up in perfect unison. The two sets of eyes, one green, one violet, blinked hurriedly in a desperate attempt to re-orientate themselves with the real world. The Mother Superior swelled up in righteous indignation. Breathing deeply in a last-ditch attempt to control herself, she rumbled in a voice more like a volcano then anything either of the girls had ever heard, "Alanna! Cythera! You two are going to Corus next week and you ARE going to bring honour to the convent, if I have to knock it into you myself!"
That woke them up fast enough. Timidly, Cythera raised one perfectly manicured hand.
"Us two, Mother?"
"Are you a parrot, Cythera? No? Then why do you imitate one by repeating everything I say? Are you suggesting, perhaps, that I am incapable of counting?"
That was the Mother all over, determined to think the worst. Cythera was about to roll her eyes, but thought better of it at the last minute.
"I said you two and I meant it! I refuse to have you in this convent for one moment longer, either of you! Much as I regret letting you loose on Corus," She raised her eyes heavenward, "The court is far better equipped to deal with you then I. And I wish them joy of you! Out of my sight, both of you, now! And if I hear one whisper out of you between now and next week I will personally seal your mouths!"
But the two girls were oblivious to this last threat, for they had already fled the building, their cries of jubilation echoing over the stony courtyard.
Disclaimer: Now I understand why everyone hates these so much. I am not Tamora Pierce. If I was, Jon would have died in the first paragraph and George would have become King.
Lilliana-Rose: *blushes* Thank you! I don't know why my name wasn't on there, probably a glitch in the system.
The two girls were sitting in front of the Mother Superior (a/n I can't remember her proper title, this will have to do) looking very solemn but laughing away underneath their good-girl masks. The Mother was looking down severely at them, her piercing gaze sliding down her hawkish nose and connecting sharply with the faces of the blushing teenagers. Alanna risked a glance around her at the office she knew only too well: the neutral cream walls, the shrine to the Mother Goddess, and the hard-backed, stiff oak chairs that, with the desk, were the only furniture. There were no personal touches, no hint of personality. Once, when she and Cythera had been left alone in here, Alanna had peeked into the desk drawers-even there there were only files, papers, and bills, nothing to show that the person whose office this was was anything more then an accountant. When the Mother Superior spoke, the voice matched everything else about her: stern, severe and unrelenting.
"I cannot believe this. I simply cannot believe that the week before you leave for Corus, you would disgrace the entire convent in this unladylike fashion. It is disgraceful. I would have thought that after seven years with us you persist in these despicable, shameful ways. Alanna," and now the full fury of her intense glare was turned on the redhead, "Don't you understand you are going to be married to one of the most important young warriors at court? Don't you realise that the entire reputation of the convent rests upon your shoulders? Does it mean nothing to you that..."
And so it went on, and on, and on. Alanna drifted off into one of her stored-up daydreams of being a warrior, Cythera into one of hers about romance and court. They didn't bother paying attention during these all-too- frequent sessions: the Mother Superior was the kind of person who vocally italicised every other word, even the unimportant ones. Besides, they had heard this speech, or its identical twins, every week since their arrival.
"...and besides, the court will be expecting you to know... Alanna, Cythera, are you even listening to me?" This last was delivered in exactly the same tones as the rest, and neither one of the girls responded. Looking primed for impending explosion, the Mother Superior snapped.
"That is enough!"
The two heads, one dark, one coppery, jerked up in perfect unison. The two sets of eyes, one green, one violet, blinked hurriedly in a desperate attempt to re-orientate themselves with the real world. The Mother Superior swelled up in righteous indignation. Breathing deeply in a last-ditch attempt to control herself, she rumbled in a voice more like a volcano then anything either of the girls had ever heard, "Alanna! Cythera! You two are going to Corus next week and you ARE going to bring honour to the convent, if I have to knock it into you myself!"
That woke them up fast enough. Timidly, Cythera raised one perfectly manicured hand.
"Us two, Mother?"
"Are you a parrot, Cythera? No? Then why do you imitate one by repeating everything I say? Are you suggesting, perhaps, that I am incapable of counting?"
That was the Mother all over, determined to think the worst. Cythera was about to roll her eyes, but thought better of it at the last minute.
"I said you two and I meant it! I refuse to have you in this convent for one moment longer, either of you! Much as I regret letting you loose on Corus," She raised her eyes heavenward, "The court is far better equipped to deal with you then I. And I wish them joy of you! Out of my sight, both of you, now! And if I hear one whisper out of you between now and next week I will personally seal your mouths!"
But the two girls were oblivious to this last threat, for they had already fled the building, their cries of jubilation echoing over the stony courtyard.
